Contexts
by sharingank
Summary: Contexts are wonderful, wonderful things. Gokudera/Yamamoto.


School, why you hate me so much. I don't have a lot of time to write anymore, but I whipped this out quick for V-Day. I hope everyone enjoys:D

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**Contexts**

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Yamamoto knows Gokudera very well—they've both come to grips with this (though it required more effort on Gokudera's part than Yamamoto's). It's just a fact of life, as natural as the turning of the seasons.

But that doesn't mean Gokudera can't surprise him now and again.

"Oy, baseball freak."

'Baseball freak' sounds so different when they're older, it really does. For one, Gokudera's voice is a lot deeper, a lot rougher, than it used to be (all those damn cigarettes). For two, there's context behind the nickname that wasn't there when it first came about. The kind of context you don't discuss in front of minors, or prudes, or…pretty much anyone sensible.

_That_ kind of context.

Contexts are wonderful things, especially when they give your memory a little stirring-up and you recall, down to the minutest detail, some of the most mind-blowing sex you've ever had in your life.

"Mm?"

"C'mere."

He sees a hand poke through a doorway with one finger crooked, urging him on. Yamamoto chuckles and does what Gokudera tells him because he's an obliging kind of person. As soon as he gets close enough, Gokudera ushers him inside—by the tie, of course. And Yamamoto thinks to himself, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, I love our base. So many rooms to take advantage of. So many wonderful, empty rooms. Tsuna was a genius when he built this place.

"But I haven't showered," Yamamoto says teasingly as Gokudera shuts the door and shuts the light out with it. "I'm grungy and icky and covered in blood."

"Better not be yours."

"Haha, most of it isn't."

"You know I'll kick your ass if you're bleeding everywhere."

"How sweet! I'm lucky I have you to care about me."

"Damn right you are."

"And modest, too!"

Gokudera snorts. "If you like me for my modesty, we have a big problem, here." He pushes Yamamoto up against the wall. "Though I still don't understand_why _you like me to begin with."

Yamamoto's taller than Gokudera, but height's never really been an issue between them. It rather works to Yamamoto's advantage, actually, because he finds the idea of being held in check by someone shorter a huge turn-on.

Or maybe it's just Gokudera.

"I was born to like you, baby."

"Oh my _God_."

"What?"

"You're an idiot." But Gokudera's grinning when he says that—Yamamoto can tell, even if the room's dark. His grin is so expressive, it kinda…_glows_ (Yamamoto tried explaining as much to Gokudera once, and he's pretty sure he failed because Gokudera punched him and told him he'd knock him unconscious if Yamamoto broached the subject again).

Yamamoto likes Gokudera's grin. And his smile. And his crazy hair. It's thick, perfect for tangling your fingers in (and tugging on). He likes the way Gokudera casually flicks his cigarette butts aside. He likes Gokudera's devotion to Tsuna, to the family.

He likes looking at Gokudera in a suit, and in nothing at all.

"Sure am."

That earns him a laugh. Gokudera has a _great_ laugh.

"At least you admit it."

And then Gokudera's arms are around Yamamoto's neck and he's kissing him, a slow, lingering kiss that goes on and on and _on_ and Yamamoto forgets what they were talking about, forgets that they're alone in a dark room at the base—they could be standing in the middle of a crowded city street and he wouldn't notice. Gokudera's kisses tend to have that effect on him.

"There."

Yamamoto blinks. His whole body feels hot.

"Er….huh?"

Gokudera lights a cigarette.

"Today's Valentine's Day, genius."

Yamamoto blinks again.

"No way. No _way_."

Gokudera raps his knuckles on the side of Yamamoto's head. "Way." He takes a drag on the cigarette.

"Awww, I didn't buy you anything!"

"What would you get me? Candy? _Flowers_? No, thanks."

"I was thinking one of those pink teddy bears with the hearts on 'em."

After a brief pause, Gokudera elbows him. "_Teddy bear_…" he mutters under his breath.

Impulsively, Yamamoto traps Gokudera in a hug, mindful of the cigarette (he waited until Gokudera had it in his mouth). "You're not mad at me, are you? I'll remember next year, I promise." Implying that they'll be together another year. That they'll _survive_ another year.

Yamamoto believes they will.

"Let go."

"Noooo."

"Do it or I'll jam my knee up where it counts."

"Maa, maa…a couple more minutes."

"_Now_."

"But it's Valentine's Day."

"If I hadn't mentioned it, you wouldn't have known anyway!"

Yamamoto lets go.

"Fine, fine."

Gokudera steps back and opens the door. They both squint against the light for a moment while their eyes adjust, and then Gokudera grabs the edge of Yamamoto's sleeve and tugs him out—almost as forcefully as he tugged him in earlier.

"Come on. We're gonna be late for the strategy meeting."

They walk down the hall, side by side.

"Was that kiss my present?"

"Part of it."

Yamamoto raises his eyebrows, a silent question.

Gokudera smirks.

"I'll give you the rest tonight, baseball freak."

Contexts are wonderful, wonderful things.


End file.
